A pirate looks at 40

March came in like a lion, and as the days roll on by I get closer to the date (and more importantly) the fact that soon I will be 40 years old.

40 years old…

It was hard to see at 30

Impossible to fathom at 20

But never the less here I am on the cusp of the big “Four-O”

I readily admit that it gives one pause, but I refuse to grant it any undue anxiety.

When the subject comes up with my wife (who is considerably younger than I), the question posed to her is frequently along the lines of;

So how’s he doing with that?

As if turning 40 is an affliction, or maybe that I’m going to purchase a convertible Corvette in the throes of a full on mid-life crisis, or perhaps acquire a mistress to remind me of lost vitality…

Whatever…

My mistress is life itself, and there is so much to do from the mountains to the sea…

There’s something liberating about advancing age that replaces the need to be cool with the need to be happy, and the realization that friends will always be friends, and the rest...well it’s simply not that important.

So to those around me who consistently mutter under their collective breath that “It’s sucks getting old”, or “It’s not as easy as it used to be”, I offer this retort;

I feel better than ever, I am more driven (to be happy), and healthier then at any other point during my 40 year ride.  

Age can be a crutch most certainly.

But it can also be an impetus to drink in life that much more, a charge to go scare yourself with something new; identify a new bird on the feeder, try a new recipe, sip a new craft beer.

 

“Yes, I am a pirate
Two hundred years too late.
The cannons don't thunder there's nothin' to plunder
I'm an over forty victim of fate; arriving too late
Arriving too late”...

-Jimmy Buffet